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"Sister," said the woodsman, kindly, "I am an old man. You have called me Father. Why have you followed us?" "I found Jibiwánisi good in my sight," she said, with a simple dignity, "and he looked on me." "It was a foolish thing to do." "Ae," replied the girl. "He does not wish to take you in his wigwam." "Eagle-eye is angry now. Anger melts under the sun." "I do not think his will."
We've all done just as foolish things, only they didn't happen to turn out the way this one has." Chunky turned his pony about and rode a few paces away from them, being more disturbed than he cared to have his companions know. "Eagle-eye," called the Professor. The Indian was leaning over the cliff looking down into the deep canyon, trying to find the pack mule.
On second thought it occurred to Professor Zepplin that perhaps it might have been Joe, or Eagle-eye, as the boys had decided to call the Indian, whom he had heard skulking about the camp. "Eagle-eye," he called softly. There was no response, so the Professor, gripping his gun resolutely, crept along toward the opposite side of the camp where the noise had seemed to come from.
Do you know what happened to him?" asked Ned, in an excited tone. "No, I can't. I've got troubles of my own. Get me out of here quick. I can't hold on much longer." "If the trousers only hold out, we'll save you," cried Walter. "Get a rope, Eagle-eye." "Move! Move, idiot!" snorted the Professor. "What are you standing there for?"
"Why, my dear Ned, you couldn't even push Eagle-eye down there. For some reason he seems to have a superstitious dread of that place. I don't know why, for Indians are not supposed to be much afraid of anything. I'll ask him. Eagle-eye, will you go down there and try to get the provisions for us?" asked Tad, turning to the guide.
"I would go myself if I knew the way." "No, you'd fall in somewhere," chuckled Ned. "And the Indian probably would forget to come back," added Walter. "Altogether we are in a fix." "I think Master Stacy's suggestion is the most practicable of all," decided the Professor. "Yes, but where could you send Eagle-eye?" asked Ned.
"I don't understand you, Eagle-eye," said the Professor. "You say you found the trail of a canoe on the river?" "Yes." "That sounds peculiar. I agree with Master Stacy that it is a most remarkable place to find a trail hours after. Perhaps you will explain." Eagle-eye rose to his feet. "Come. I show you."
Eagle-eye, the missing Indian guide, was discovered bound and gagged in a remote chamber in the Ruby Mountain, weak from loss of food. He had caught some of the band stealing the ponies and they had taken him prisoner. It was proved, however, that neither Rose Cravath nor her mother had any knowledge of the transactions of the desperate band.
At length he approached me, and, with a look of intense interest, inquired how near my father's villa was to Peschiera on the lake of Garda. "Within a league of it," I replied. Again he paced the apartment in silent abstraction, when suddenly his eagle-eye was lighted up with more than its wonted fire, and he exclaimed with animation, "Agreed!
"Go take care of that pony," commanded the Professor sternly. "Rub him down well. After you have done so, return and get your breakfast. There's not much for you." "He'll have to wash his own dishes," announced Ned. "No washing dishes for a lazy Indian. No, not for me." "Yes, he will have to do that," agreed the Professor. "Come back here, Eagle-eye."
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